


Avoiding the Emperor

by DruidX



Series: The Genderless!HoK (TES IV: Oblivion) [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls IV: Oblivion
Genre: Nightmares, Other, Seduction
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-17
Updated: 2020-06-19
Packaged: 2021-03-06 14:34:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,107
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26190469
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DruidX/pseuds/DruidX
Summary: Genderless!Hero of Kvatch returns to Cloud Ruler Temple after a long absence, and feel they must explain themself to their Emperor.
Series: The Genderless!HoK (TES IV: Oblivion) [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1901968
Comments: 7
Kudos: 10





	1. Apologising

**Author's Note:**

> I first played TES IV: Oblivion on the PS4 years ago, and I remember being traumatized by the end of the main questline. Despite that, I never really finished the game due to a Vampire bug. I recently discovered that Oblivion was now supported on Steam’s Linux client using their WINE fork, Proton.  
> I bought it at the start of quarantine and, after delivering Martin safely to Cloud Ruler Temple decided I couldn’t go through with the main quest yet. After going through most of the other content and getting sick of closing gates, I went back to the Temple.  
> This fic was born of my vague horror that I’d been avoiding the main questline for 8 months and 12 days of game-time, and a desire to come up with a plausible in-game explanation for doing so.

I walked into the great hall of Cloud Ruler Temple, my steps lagging as I did. Jauffre had told me to speak to Martin, to give him the Mysterium Xarxes, but my face had betrayed me, and he'd ordered me instead. It was late in the day. No one was in the Hall but me, Martin and Baurus - his ever-present guard. It was quiet. Peaceful almost. If one could ignore the reason we were all here. Woodsmoke filled the air mingling with the pitch-scent of the Hall's great beams. The crackle of the fire accompanied the _fwip_ of pages being turned. The wind gusted outside, a constant drone in the background punctuated by the groan of wood.

I stopped just inside the doorway, partly hidden from Martin's view by one of the large, ornately carved columns. Not that he would have thought to look up. His gaze was down, riveted to the tome in his hand. I couldn't see his face, but I knew his eyes would be red-sore from straining in the dim light. His cheeks would be sallow, there would be bruises under his eyes from where he wasn't sleeping or eating. His grey-brown hair hung limply. Jauffre had told me that Martin... the Emperor... wasn't looking after himself enough. Guilt tugged at me. I had left him, thinking to save him, but instead I'd let him become a shell of the man I'd turned my back on after delivering him here, to where I thought he was safe.

I blinked and looked up. Baurus was staring at me, waiting for my attention. When he saw he had it, the Redguard nodded shortly and moved backwards. His watchful gaze never left where Martin sat, but he'd allowed us some privacy. I slowly inclined my head: _my thanks, friend_.  
He flashed me a sombre smile: _Don't mention it_.

I approached the table and for a moment considered dropping the book and running. But Baurus had given me a gift. And I owed Martin an explanation.  
I sat down opposite him and put the book on the table.  
"Hi," I said. "I brought you a present." I slid the infernal book over to him.  
"Ah, the Mysterium Xarxes. You found it," he said. He looked up, beaming. "I hadn't seen you in so long, I thought you were avoiding me. But I knew you would come through for me in the end." His smile faded as he saw the serious expression I held.  
"I was," I said. "Avoiding you. For eight months and twelve days."  
"What-" He recoiled, leaning away from his workbench and staring at me wildly. I was right – his eyes were red from smoke and strain and lack of sleep. "Why would you do that? I thought-" he sounded so hurt, it nearly broke my heart. "We're in the middle of a crisis!" He shook his head, and half stood up. "The Gates-" he waved wildly.  
"I know," I said, feeling myself scrunch down further, my heart in my stomach. "I've been trying to take care of them. I thought I was doing the right thing. I- I thought..." I bit my lip and stared at the tabletop. "I thought I was protecting you."  
"Protecting _me_!" He was on his feet now. "What about the people who's lives have been ended by the beasts of Oblivion! The cattle and fields lost to fire? The desecrated countryside? The gates can only permanently be closed if-"  
"Martin, please!" I was on my feet now too. "I don't want you to die!" I shouted.  
"Ah, Sire, ma'am?" Baurus said. "I'd suggest lowering your voices. Unless of course, you want the whole Temple to think we're under attack."

I bit my lip, and both Martin and I sank back into our seats. He was silent for a long time, and for each moment that passed, my heart sank further towards my boots.  
"You left me for 8 months-"  
"And twelve days."  
"-and twelve days. I should like to know what you thought was more important than saving Cyrodiill during this time?"  
"Well, I-" I paused, considering lying to him. No, damnit, I should tell him the truth. "I thought I was saving you. I ascended the ranks of the Mages Guild. I closed Oblivion Gates. I ascended the ranks of the Fighter's guild. I closed Oblivion Gates. I defeated an ancient Ayleid named Umaril the Unfeathered. I closed Oblivion Gates. I-" I paused, leant across the table and whispered, "I became the Grey Fox." I straightened and resumed a normal tone. "I closed Oblivion Gates. I did some stuff for the Daedric Princes. I closed Oblivion Gates, and more Oblivion Gates, and yet more.  
"It wasn't until then that I realised I couldn't put it off any longer. The Gates would just keep opening unless I came back and helped you close them for good. Even though it would put you in danger."  
"You keep saying that, that it will put _me_ in danger. Even though you are the one who has been braving the plane of Oblivion to close the Gates." He looked, unseeing, at the book on the table. "Tell me, why did you leave in the first place?"  
I could feel my eyes growing watery at the memory, but I looked Martin, my Martin, my Emperor, in the eye regardless.  
"Because your father wasn't the only one to have prophetic dreams." I paused, swallowing against a dry throat, and dearly wishing for an ale in my hand.  
"That look on your face..." Martin mumbled.

He stood, reaching to the other end of the table, and poured water into a simple earthenware cup for me. I wanted to laugh and cry both, hysterical in the face of the surreality; The Emperor of Tamriel was pouring me, a known felon, a cup of water. I gave another hiccuping swallow as he put the cup down in front of me, and drank greedily as he took his seat.  
"You were saying?" Martin prompted in his calm, sweet voice.  
"Yes. About prophetic dreams. About my dream." I cradled the cup, staring at its shadowed depth. "You probably don't remember. When we stopped at the Aleswell Inn, taking you from Weynon Priory to here, you woke me up from where I had fallen asleep in the taproom, slumped over a table with a dozen bottles around me. I doubt you thought any more of it than I was a lout and a lush who couldn't keep away from the bottle for one night. I know Jauffre looked at me as though he wondered just how crazy Uriel had been at the end of his life."  
"I confess, I did have a few doubts then my friend. But if Jauffre had reservations, he never voiced them to me. But you're wrong. I do remember the incident very clearly. The barkeeper said he woke to you rummaging around for ale, and he thought he was going to have problems. But then you dumped a handful of coins on the counter for him, leaning over enough that in the moonlight he could see your face was covered in tear marks. When all you did was move to the corner table, your sword in easy reach, and start drinking he went back to sleep. When I woke you, it was obvious you'd been crying in the night. I assumed you were drinking away the memories from within the oblivion gate."  
I shook my head. "No Martin. I had a dream about you."  
"I'm not that hideous am I?" he asked, his laugh an awkward thing.  
"Please don't joke. It wasn't that kind of dream." I looked up, and again his poorly contrived smile just evaporated.  
"I apologise. Please, go on."  
"There are only two things I remember clearly, every time I wake up from this dream – and yes, I have had it on many occasions. The first is of Jauffre ordering me to find the Amulet of Kings. This is followed by a lot of fire, and blood and pain. But then, always just before I wake, we are stood in the Temple of the One. We have realised a sickening truth: the Dragonfires must be relit using your blood. And- And you-" my breath came in sobs, as I struggled to tell him. "You say goodbye. And you walk away. And I-" my vision became blurred. "I cannot stop you. It's as if I am frozen. And I- I am unfrozen- just in time- to walk out- and- and you vanish and I know you are- you are-" My body shook, my throat locked up, as I looked at his pinched expression, tears running freely down my face.  
His eyes were vacant, his jaw slack. "That I am dead."

I let out a wail, my heart breaking anew, just like every time I had the dream, whether in my own bed in Bravil, a camp on the road, or at some inn. I scrunched over, a fist in my stomach, pressing my head to the tabletop.  
"It- it could just be a dream. A nightmare spun by Vaermina," he said. His voice was husky, filled with fear.  
"Martin, no. I'm sorry," I pulled a hand over my face, and reached out to him. He pulled away and fresh tears pricked at my eyes. "It was too visceral, too real. I've had it every week since I met you. It has to be a warning. Please. Do you understand? This is why I stayed away. The Gods are telling me that if I help you, you will die."  
"Or," he said after a long moment, and his voice was the softest, and most resolute I'd heard from him. His face was calm, and I read acceptance there, "or perhaps they are telling us what to expect, so we can come to terms with what must be."  
"Are you mad!" I yelled, suddenly on my feet. A soft cough from Baurus reminded me to keep my voice down, and I slowly sat back down. "Martin you're going to die."  
"Don't we all of us die eventually?" I stared at him. "Is it not better to have died in service to others, than a low meaningless death elsewhere?" He gave a sad chuckle. "My first act of service as Emperor will be to give my life for my subjects." He shook his head and sighed. "But if that is the Gods' will, then neither one of us can thwart it. Not that you haven't been doing a tremendous job thus far," he added, giving me a sad smile.  
"I've tried my best," I told him in a tremulous voice. With a trembling hand, I took a drink, gulping down the rest of the water.  
"Hmm. I think you'll find that you no longer have the dream any more," Martin said, his light blue eyes watching me intently. "Thank you for telling me."  
"You're welcome, I guess. Martin, we need to do something about this. It isn't fair. We should tell-" He put a hand up, and I shut up as instantly as if I'd been Silenced.  
"You must not tell Jauffre any of this." And damnit if there wasn't some of his father's command in that tone.  
"But he-"  
"He will have the same reaction that you have done, and with a lot more clout to prevent this from coming to pass. While I admire that tenacity about both of you, this is not something you can prevent. The Gods will find a way to ensure this happens as They have designed it. All we can do is continue with stout hearts, strong wills, and to the best of our ability. We must make our men proud of us, proud to fight for us, and continue to serve the Gods with integrity." He looked back at me, and his blue eyes shone with a surety that took my breath away.  
"Damn good speech, Sire," I said. That got a warm smile out of him. I hoped he'd heard what I wanted to say instead, _I think I'm a little bit in love with you_.  
"You should get some rest," he said after a moment. "I hear Jauffre's sending you spy hunting tomorrow."  
"So should you," I told him. "But not before I watch you eat your dinner." I pulled over a bowl of Shepard's Pie and the plate with bread and an apple that had been pushed aside in favour of a pile of books.  
"I don't have time-" he started to protest.  
"The hell you don't," I told him, stacking the books neatly and moving them out of his way. I poured him a cup of water as well. "If you're set on dying in a month or so's time, the least you can do is go out on a full belly." I slid to the end of the table to lean against a pillar, arms crossed, one foot on the bench to brace me. He held my gaze for a long time, before I nodded to the food. Only then did my Martin get the idea I wasn't kidding, and that by the Nine I wasn't leaving until I was sure he'd eaten. He gave me a slight nod back, his lips quirking as he did so – _I love you a little bit too_ – before he began to eat.


	2. Sweet Dreams

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> A bridge between two parts.

A little later, I stirred, hearing Baurus speaking in hushed tones to Martin.  
"It's late, Sire. You need to rest," came the redguard's gentle tones.  
"Soon," Martin said. "I just have this chapter to finish..."  
"Sire." The single word was heavy with meaning. Fire-crackle filled the empty air for a long moment, then Martin sighed.  
"Very well," he said. His chair scraped against the Hall's flagstones as he stood. Light steps moved away, then stopped.  
"What about...?" the Emperor asked.  
"I'll fetch a blanket once you're safely delivered to Captain Steffan," Baurus reassured him. "I'm sure this isn't the worst place your Hero has slept before."  
"Oh, "my hero" now, is it?" Martin asked, teasingly.  
"Who else's should they be?" Baurus asked lightly back.  
Martin hummed a moment. "What of the Xarxes?" he asked, a frown creeping into his voice.  
"Give it to your Hero, Sire," Baurus said. "I guarantee nothing will happen to it there."  
Another silence stretched, and I wondered what kind of look the Emperor was giving his guard.  
"Sire, the Hero is a skilled warrior. Anyone aside from you, trying to take that book back would be ended in a heartbeat."  
Another silence filled with the whistling of the wind without.  
"It is good to hear you speak of our saviour in such glowing terms, Baurus," Martin said eventually.   
I heard the creek of the jostled chair as Martin leant over, the soft rasp of the book being picked up. His light tread, with its distinctive heaviness on the heel, moved around the table to stand beside me. Baurus shifted his weight, the softness of his tread honed by years of training. Yes, I knew it was my Emperor who stood beside me, who leaned over to tuck the Mysterium Xarxes under my arms. Bent over me, I caught the scent of burnt timber and the green bitterness of alchemical ingredients. Very different from Baurus; he was all metal, leather and adrenalin. I clutched the book to my chest, cuddling it like a child's toy. The sensation of closeness shifted. The backs of fingers traced their way down my cheek.  
"I wish you sweet dreams, my Hero," Martin whispered into my ear, his face so close I could feel his heat. A kiss was pressed to my forehead. Then he was gone, their combined footsteps fading away towards the barracks.


	3. Venting Steam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which the Emperor helps the Generless!HoK burn off some frustration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I had a random little idea that spurred on from the first part of Avoiding the Emperor. I’d like to think that by the time the Oblivion Crisis has rolled around Martin has come to terms with his past with Sanguine, and can turn that part of himself on and off at will.

I dreamt of a garden. The most pristine garden I had ever seen, filled with so many plants and trees, it was enough to make an alchemist's paradise. The sky was a perfect duck-egg blue, the sun's warmth tempered by idle zephyrs. Love seats and arbours dotted the soft grasses in splendid Ayleid style, joined by a path of glimmering white stone that wound through the garden to terminate in a ruddy, glowing door. Strange metal bracers appeared on my arms, covered in daedric symbols. I looked around, confused. For all it's artful splendour, only one thing marred the garden - the scent of blood that hung in the air. It emanated from behind the door, a hot, sighing thing, pulsing like a lover's pant. I gripped the handle, and pulled. Ember-red glow met me. The wind washed out, filled with iron, blood and the bitter-sweetness of adrenaline...

I opened my eyes, nose to nose with Baurus, a command word dying on my lips, and a daedric blade to his throat. He was smiling.   
"See, Sire?" he asked. "Didn't I tell you the book would be safe?"   
"Baurus, what-?" I asked. I blinked awake fully now, leaning backwards to take in the crowded room behind the redguard. I twisted my head to see Martin to one side, pale, concern evident in his eyes.   
"Please don't be upset," he said, reaching out a placating hand. "Baurus merely wanted to prove-"   
"Prove what? How to get his throat slit?" I turned my attention back to the man in question. "Is the space between your ears taken up by chalk?" I demanded of him. "You fool! I could have killed you!"   
"But you didn't," the guard raised an eyebrow, that cocky smirk on his face. "You knew it was me, didn't you?"   
I searched his face, thinking back to the wind from my dream. He was right, and somehow that made my blood boil the more. Rather than admit it, I let out a wordless cry of disgust, slamming the conjured blade point-first into the tabletop. The Xarxes joined it, and I stalked out, leaving the iconic pair behind.

I wanted to vent my ire on a training dummy, but recalled too late, as I stepped out into the biting air, that such an item was not to be found on the Temple's plaza. The practice mat was not occupied, so I stalked over and drew my sword instead. The tempered green glass shone in the early morning light, as I lifted the blade into a practice position.   
"He meant no offence by it, you know." I looked over to see Martin stood watching me, hands clutched loosely in front of him. "Quite the opposite, in fact. He holds your ability in high esteem."   
"What does his esteem matter if I had taken his life?" I asked, looking away. I sliced viciously at the air in front of me, the green blade flickering. "That was about the stupidest stunt I've ever seen." My sword danced lethally in my grip. "He's a Blade, he should know better."   
"Indeed, he should have," Martin agreed as I came to rest. "But, come now. I see you have yet frustrations to work out, and I could use some practice." The Emperor walked over and grasped two katanas – the Blades' signature weapon. "Best we use these, though, eh?" he added with a smile, eyes flicking to the glass sword.   
"Agreed," I said, stowing my enchanted blade. Martin threw me one of the blunted katanas and took up position in front of me. I spun the fine Akaviri blade in my hand, getting a feel for the weight of it. In truth, I disliked the weapon. It was too long for me really, though the balance was always perfect.   
"Ready?" I asked. He nodded and I made a 'come at me' signal.

Martin raced across the small practice square, his blade held high. I raised mine as though to meet it, but pivoted at the last moment. I turned to strike at his back but was surprised to find him waiting for me. Our blades clashed, steel singing in the still morning air. I broke away and backed up.   
"Very good, Sire. Better than I expected."   
"I did have a life before I was a priest," he said, a teasing edge to his voice.   
"I didn't know," I replied.   
"Oh yes," he said, as we warily circled each other. "I was a devout of Sanguine."   
"Huh. I never pegged you as a lush or deviant," I said, and rushed forward. He pulled the same trick as I had, and I had to curb my natural impulse to fire lighting with my free hand. This exercise was to release tension, not to kill. Instead, I badly blocked his swing. His blade landed flat on my shoulder.   
His eyes coquettish, Martin said, "There are many pleasures one might indulge for that daedric Lord. The lust of battle, for one." Metal grated as he flicked his blade up, caressing my neck. "The clash and rasp of weapons falling together, sweat clinging to the combatant's bodies, the defiant roar of victory." He licked his lips, flushed with exertion, and I followed the action with my eyes. "When one lives for Sanguine, one finds many ways of seduction." I told myself that the goosebumps that raised were from the sound of metal, that the fuzz in my stomach was a natural reaction to having a blade at my throat. I knocked his blade away and stepped back, coming _en guarde_ , as they say in High Rock.   
"And are you trying to seduce me, Sire?" I asked, ignoring the tremor in my voice.   
"That depends," he said, teasing the tip of my blade with his own. "Is it working?"   
I chose not to answer, and instead pressed an attack. Our blades danced until we met in the middle of the mat.   
"Should I take that as a 'yes'?" he asked, as our blades locked, our faces so close I could feel his breath. His voice dropped to a sultry whisper. "Or should I try _harder_?" He shifted his hips, pressing himself briefly into my crotch. My mind howled in want, and fuzzed-out like a blizzard that this was my _Emperor_ who was flirting with me. Moisture left my mouth as I expelled a shocked sigh.   
"Sweet Dibella. Jauffre would have me murdered. You know that right?" I managed after a moment.   
Martin laughed. "What the old man doesn't know can't hurt him," he smirked. He pulled back this time, leaving me stunned in the middle of the field. This was a side to my Martin I had never seen before. I wasn't sure if I liked it or not. No, that's incorrect... My monkey brain liked it. That primal part of me liked it a lot.   
Martin was pacing the edge of the practice square, watching me like a mountain lion, heavy-lidded and stalking. I quickly shook off his distraction, raising my sword, and matching his pacing.   
"I suppose that's true," I said, my steps as measured as my words, bringing me closer to him. He brought his blade up to block me, the weapons singing for a moment, then locked. "After all," I said softly, "Jauffre wasn't the one who kissed me while I was sleeping last night."   
He arched an eyebrow, moistening his lips. My eyes darted down, distracted, and he took advantage. The pressure of his sword withdrew, off-balancing me, and he grasped my wrist, pulling me around, his blade resting at my throat.   
"Jauffre," he whispered into my ear, making the small hairs tingle with his breath, "had no need to kiss you last night. What say you to that?"   
I breathed hard, trying to ignore his warmth at my back, the way he made my blood sing. I swallowed. "That your seduction skills are still on point, Sire."

A little cough came from the side of the practice area.   
"Ah Martin, there you are. And with our Hero, no less. Good. I need to speak with both of you." I looked over to see Grand Master Jauffre watching us with raised eyebrows, and an amused smile.   
Martin released me then, and strode over to replace his sword in the rack.   
"I trust everyone is feeling a little calmer after this morning's outburst?" Jauffre enquired, watching us with mounting interest.   
"Yes," Martin said, replacing his weapon. "I think a little exercise to get the blood pumping was exactly what our dear Hero needed." He flicked a sultry little smirk over his shoulder at me, as I moved to replace the training blade. "Your sword-play could use work, however. Let me know if you're interested in another lesson." I felt a rush of blood to my cheeks that had nothing to do with the cold, or exertion.   
"I'll, ah, bear it in mind, Sire."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It was a real challenge trying to keep the Hero of Kvatch as gender-neutral and with minimal identifying features as possible.  
> (Also, this is a little self-indulgent. My paramour has been in a different country since the pandemic started, and it’s starting to bother me.)

**Author's Note:**

> This was written on my return to Cloud Ruler in-game, so I know the time-line is a little jumbled in terms of which quest happened first. The "dream" the HoK has is the way I recalled the ending of the main quest some 12 years after I first played the game, so I'm aware it's a little janky on the details.


End file.
